


The Communion of Saints

by orphan_account



Series: The Credo Collection [3]
Category: Ashes to Ashes, Lewis (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	The Communion of Saints

Fenchurch St. East reminded me of a lot of nicks I’d been in during my early days but the Guv was something else. From the velvet collar of his Crombie to his snakeskin boots, he didn’t look like any other DCI I’d ever met. He swung his feet up onto the desk, removed the cigarette from his mouth with his thumb and forefinger, took a swig of whiskey and looked at a letter in his hand.

“Loud-mouth, piss-artist, too handy with his fists and totally insubordinate” He looked up at me and gave me a cock-eyed grin “You’ll fit in fine, Sunshine. Frazer Cameron? That won’t do. That won’t do at all. From now on you’re Haggis, got it?” This was a test.

“Yes, Guv,” I replied meekly “Haggis it is.” Anything was better than Jock. That seemed to please him and he waggled the whiskey bottle at me. Here was my first hurdle to jump.

“Can’t Guv. Cirrhosis” I mumbled.

“Sweet Jesus” he breathed and I tried to stop myself wincing at the blasphemy so I covered it up by lighting a cigarette instead.

“I’ll put you on re-assignments” Gene Hunt continued. “It’s not interesting but you’ll get to know the rest of the team and it’s important that you all know each other and trust each other before we let you out on grown up work. Understood, Haggis?”

I nodded. “Right, Guv.” He stood up and took me out into the main office, his arm across my shoulders, whispering in my ear as we went

“And just so you know, Haggis; this is MY nick and I run it MY way and NOBODY ever contradicts me, on pain of a severe kicking in the knackers. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Guv.” I can appear quite docile when I have to. On the wall was a photo of Gene Hunt standing in front of a red car with two very striking-looking women, one in uniform and two blokes. Seeing me looking at it he frowned and said

“The old team” in a tone that didn’t invite any further questions. The new team was two male CDs – Barry, who had joined from Devon and Cornwall Constabulary and was called Haystacks; Glynn from South Wales obviously known as Baa-lamb and a uniformed WPC called Alice from the Met known as Pally Ally. I was given a clipboard of typed lists and sat in front of a telephone.

“It’s easy” Barry explained. You get calls in from all over, asking for transfers and re-assignments – you’ll probably find yours there if you look. Yeah, here it is – so you see, your Boss asked for re-assignement, the Guv needed a DC, you came here. When another nick phones in, you find out where you can put them.”

The phone rang and I picked it up “Fenchurch St East. Reassignments”

“DI Frost here, Denton. I need a new DC soonest, mine appears to be broken.”

“Yes, DI Frost, Sir. Did you have any preferences?”

“I do – one that can stay awake longer than two hours at a time and doesn’t want to move in with me. Soonest.”

The phone went dead while I was making a note so I passed it to Baa-lamb who chuckled.

“Crusty old bugger. That one is the Guv’s old Boss. You pass the request to Ally on one of those forms and she does the match. See? Easy.”

My next call was different; a DC called Andy Crawford seeking a transfer from Dock Green as his father in law, the local desk sergeant had just died and that was all that had been keeping him there. I filled in the form and assured him that he’d be hearing from us as soon as possible.

And so I was integrated into Gene Hunt’s team, which seemed to do very little but shuffle police officers from one place to the other with no real detective work taking place.


End file.
